It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas
by suzie-sto-helit
Summary: Christmas has arrived, and Clara Oswald is determined to make things as festive as she can, decorations included. The Doctor, however, is not so convinced about his beautiful companion's Christmas ideas, and does not wish to have such things as trees or sparkly lights in his TARDIS. But against the determination of a control freak, what chance has he got? (12 x Clara / Whouffaldi)


"A Christmas tree?" He asked.

"Yes, a Christmas tree," she confirmed.

"In the TARDIS?" He questioned.

"Yes, in the TARDIS," she repeated.

"…A _Christmas_ tree… _in the TARDIS?_ "

"Yes, Doctor, okay? _A Christmas tree in the TARDIS!_ " the girl named Clara snapped at her friend. The Doctor had heard her quite clearly, yet still he could hardly believe it. Only minutes ago had they just finished herding off a bunch of wild Vespiforms from Malcassairo, and now Clara was making Christmas requests?!

The Time-Lord sighed a very obvious and incredulous sigh. It was aimed very directly at his brunette companion, and he only hoped she would notice. Walking fast, he stepped his way around the console of his beloved time machine, trying to process Clara's words.

"Clara, you do realise the TARDIS is a multi-millennium old sentient being?" He asked, still finding it very difficult to understand the logic in her demands. In a continued effort to seem busy with the console, the Doctor turned the TARDIS monitor to face him. Clara's hand was quick to grab at it, though, swinging both the monitor and the Doctor's attention back to herself.

"And?" the girl prompted an elaboration from the Time-Lord. With furrowed eyebrows he sent her a quizzical look, before beginning to walk around the console once again.

"And you _think_ , Clara, that you can plonk a Christmas tree in here just for the sake of some human tradition!" he continued, sounding no less convinced of her Christmas request than before.

"Oh, Doctor, _come on_ ," Clara moaned, following after him at a furious pace, "It's just a bit of fun!" She insisted, but gained no response from him.

The Doctor came to a stand-still, fiddling around with several more buttons and controls. "We can take it down as soon as Christmas ends," Clara added timidly, which was rather a contrast to her previosuly snappy speech.

With a small dose of curiosity for the sudden change in her tone of voice, the Doctor spared at glance at his companion.

"Oh no," he said, instantly regretting his decision. " _Oh no, no, no._ You're not giving me the Eyes are you?" He groaned. But she was most certainly giving him the Eyes. The Doctor could stand anything but the Eyes. It was absolutely horrible. Somehow they seemed to inflate themselves to occupy a majority of her face, making her look like some kind of puppy dog.

"Please?" Clara practically begged, her humongous brown eyes popping out at him desperately. Her bottom lip gradually slid outwards into a deliberate pout, and the Doctor was reminded suddenly of temperamental child asking for sweets... or something.

"Do I get any say in this?" He asked, although the answer was already very clear to him. He knew it was a lost cause as soon as she had given him the Eyes.

"Nope," Clara said, shaking her head curtly.

The 2000-and-something-year-old sighed. " _Alright_ , Miss Bossy Britches…" he said, "You may have your Christmas tree…" He had given in completely. What chance did he have against such a young, bubbly woman whom happened to be a total control freak?

A small, excited, and partially demented sounding squeak escaped from the back of Clara's throat. Which was followed by a huge grin spreading her cheeks apart. "But! _But…_ " The Doctor warned, pointing at his companion with his free hand. "You have to take it down as soon as Christmas ends."

Clara's grin still had not faded. Nothing could dissuade her from her happiness it seemed. "And I mean it…" The Doctor went on, "The _moment_ Christmas is over, you pack up the decorations, alright?"

"Ooh, thank you, Doctor!" The girl squealed, clapping her hands together excitedly. Suddenly, she jumped forwards, and with horror the Doctor realised that she was trying to hug him.

"No, no, Clara, I refuse to be hugged," he managed to say. And just in time, too.

Clara took a few steps backwards nonchalantly. "Fine," She said, without the slightest hint of bitterness in her tone. Seemingly, she remained completely elated. "Now…" The brown-haired girl spoke with a smile, "Where's the nearest pine forest?"

* * *

"Okay, okay, look," the Doctor said, "I know I agreed to the tree... but were the lights really necessary?"

Not only had they gone _all the way_ to a pine forest on Earth to find the nicest tree they could, Clara had also brought out some old fairy lights that had been stored in the TARDIS. The Doctor hadn't even known that he _had_ fairy lights stored in the TARDIS before she asked for them.

"It's… Christmas-y!" the girl in question argued, the remaining lights dangling from her hands. "Plus," she said in a matter-of-factly tone, "you can't have a Christmas tree without Christmas lights!"

The Doctor looked around his console room disbelievingly. "These are hardly Christmas lights!" He exclaimed. "They're all over the TARDIS!"

Clara had certainly wasted no time nor effort to put lights and decorations in every corner she could. There was not a single place the Doctor could rest his eyes on without his sight being bombarded with twinkling objects.

"Just enjoy it, Doctor!" Clara insisted. Just as she finished placing the last of the lights around the tree, she said pointedly, " _Now_ if we dim the TARDIS lights, it'll be perfect."

"Yes, yes, alright," the Doctor agreed somewhat frustratedly, but turned the knob to turn down the lights anyway. As a result, the blue glow of his machine - the glow that he had grown so used to - gradually dimmed, and the true brightness and colour of Clara's Christmas lights shone.

"It's beautiful," the girl breathed out, looking around in awe. "Thank you, Doctor," she smiled.

The Doctor shook his head a little and said, "Well it's not as if you would have taken no for an answer."

"Yeah," Clara shrugged. It was almost funny how casual she acted about how controlling she liked to be. "But still," she went on to say, "Thank you." In a quick moment, she leaned forward, and wrapped her arms around the Doctor's waist. He made a startled noise in protest, and immediately stiffened. Not the hugging again. She knew he hated it.

But all was far too late, as Clara had pressed herself tightly against his chest, and appeared very adamant not to let go. As was the way these things seemed to go whenever Clara was involved, the Doctor found himself giving in entirely after just a few seconds. The muscles he had been holding so tightly relaxed a little, and just for that _one,_ singular moment in time, the Doctor considered that hugging might not be the _worst_ thing in the universe.

"Doctor," said the human girl, gently releasing him from her hold. She looked back out at the lights again, positioning herself to stand next to the Doctor's right.

"Yes, Clara?" The Time-Lord replied. Clara gave a tired sigh and nuzzled against his shoulder.

In an almost-whisper, she asked, "You do realise we're in a time machine, right?"

Such a question seemed absolutely absurd to the Doctor, but all the same he responded quietly, "Yes, Clara, I might've noticed."

"But, Doctor… You once told me that the TARDIS was sort of… _timeless_. That- that time is irrelevant in here…" she reminded him. The Doctor turned his head down to look at her confusedly. He was very much struggling to understand how this was relevant to anything. "Meaning," Clara continued, "Christmas never ends in here."

Silence dropped very suddenly around the pair like a heavy blanket. Nothing but the hum of the TARDIS could be heard. The Doctor's eyes reminded fixed on Clara, and hers remained fixed on the Christmas tree in front of them.

"…Clara?" The Doctor called out into the now broken silence.

"Mm-hmm?" She hummed back.

The Doctor tore his eyes off of her and turned back to look at the sparkling Christmas decorations covering his machine. With a cough to clear his throat, he asked, "Have you been planning that all along?"

After several breaths, and a small chuckle, Clara spoke. "Yep," she told him plainly. "Merry Christmas."

Although he couldn't see it, he knew somehow that she was smiling. "Merry Christmas, Clara," he said, "Merry Christmas." And though no-one would ever, ever hear him admit it aloud, the Doctor found himself smiling too.


End file.
